Doghouse
"YOU DIDN'T COME TO me so figured I'd come to you."
The mattress dipped as Will sat on my bunk next to me, dressed, wearing boots and his green trucker hat. He was so big, he totally dominated my sleeping space.
It was early morning. Cookie's triangle hadn't rung yet. I was sleepy, bleary-eyed, and completely out of it. Janine and Stephanie slept, one of them gently snoring.
"We gotta talk about this shit. Figured I'd give you time. But I don't like you in here and not in my bed with me."
I sat up in the bottom bunk and blinked at him. This early, it was hard not to stare at him. He really was gloriously handsome, with his deep brown eyes looking concerned. He handed me a cup of coffee, which I took, silently.
"Take the time you need, Marie, but don't shut me out. Don't stay here tonight, stay with me," he said roughly. He got up off the mattress and started to walk to the door.
"Wait," I blurted. He paused, his hand on the door jamb.
"Yeah?"
"I'll stay with you tonight."
He nodded and took off down the hall, the sound of the clomping of his boots getting quieter as he got farther away.
"And maybe every night for the rest of my life," I whispered.
I took a sip of the coffee and it tasted very good.
Maybe I needed to stop thinking of excuses to get mad at him and start thinking of reasons to be with him. I knew that I'd never been with anyone like him. He was so into me and he didn't care who knew or who saw. But identifying how I felt about him? That would require honesty with myself that I wasn't sure I was ready for. I knew that he attracted me on a lot of levels. And I knew that it grew stronger each day. And I knew that he was more complicated than I allowed him to be. I’d given in and called him my boyfriend. We were together now. But admitting to myself how I felt about him? I still couldn't do it.
Then the triangle rung. I got out of bed, showered, dressed, and walked to the chow hall for breakfast.
Will sat in there with Jimmy, eating pancakes and bacon. I made instant oatmeal, added dried fruit and agave, and joined them, sitting next to Will and brushing up against him on purpose. He responded by wrapping his arm around my shoulders and giving me a squeeze.
I don't know if all was forgiven on either side. All I knew was that I liked being next to him, and he made me feel cared for and comfortable when he wasn't pissing me off.
Will and Jimmy were discussing needed maintenance around the ranch.
"You know Al Gore gets a dollar for every compact fluorescent light bulb that's sold in the US," said Jimmy.
Will laughed. "As much as I'd like to believe that, I don't think it's true. That's probably some internet shit. Some bulbs cost less than a buck. And I think they'll save us cash down the line. We might want to get LEDs, though. The prices are coming down."
So Will could think independently from the party line. I knew he had a brain. I felt heartened to see that he used it.
After breakfast, two vans pulled up with the kids, six boys from ages nine to fourteen, from the ASD program, along with their parents and therapists. The upcoming week made me nervous and I hoped that the autistic kids would find a connection forged somehow, somewhere, with something or someone.
As the children got off the van, most of them milled around, but the oldest-looking boy, jean-clad, cute, gangly, with brown hair and brown eyes, came right up to me, looking at my shoulder, struggling to make eye contact. "Hello. My name is Charles. What is your name? I have high functioning Asperger's and my father tells me to introduce myself to every adult I meet." And he shook my hand firmly, looking at my ear. I could tell that he had been told to introduce himself and make eye contact and he just couldn't. I instantly fell for him. What a sweetie.
I smiled at him and said, "Nice to meet you, Charles. Thank you for introducing yourself. My name is Marie."
I noticed that one younger boy named Travis acted particularly rambunctious, running around the area in front. But then Travis saw Will walk over with Trixie and immediately ran to her, petting her head as she wagged her tail and licked him.
I thought of something. "Will, how come you didn't dock Trixie's tail. Don't most Australian Shepherds have a docked tail?"
"Some do, some don't. Couldn't cut her tail for vanity. Seemed pretty stupid."
My heart cracked open a little bit more. Will wouldn't hurt a dog.
Travis's mother came over to me, and said, "Can the dog stay around him? He opens up around animals and . . ." She trailed off, looking close to tears.
I reached over and squeezed her hand. "Of course. I think that Will can spare Trixie for a little bit."
"'Course," he said amiably. "She'll love the attention. He can spend as much time with her as he wants. She'll be happy to stay out of the doghouse."
"She doesn't sleep in the doghouse and you know it," I said, chiding him and giving him a gentle shove on his chest.
He leaned over and whispered in my ear, "She was in the doghouse with me last night and we're not gonna do it again."
For some reason, this made me warm all over. He put a hand on my bicep, squeezed it, and he took off, loping to the barn.